


who we are

by sithclove



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery, Businessmen, Chicago (City), Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Strangers to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Modern Era, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, a whole ass mess idk what I'm doing anymore, alexbelle made me do it, cato needs a hug, clove has big dreams but a small bank account, nothing super smutty but its sorta detailed, past relationship, two idiots who dance around their feelings, two shy beans who won't admit their feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithclove/pseuds/sithclove
Summary: Running into a familiar face in a city that's constantly on the move isn’t the most common thing in the world.But when Clove moves to Chicago with her best-friend, Cato finds himself seeing a face he wishes he had never forgotten.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> welcome back to a shit show where grace tries to write, but it ends up being complete and utter nonsense.
> 
> this chapter is basically just showing you the past between cato and clove. It takes place in 2013, which is when they graduate high school. in the story, they are both 24 years old current (2019) time.
> 
> i stopped writing cato and clove in high school because i really hated doing it, and it lowkey shows in this because…. OOOOOF. its so bad. the whole chapter is basically dialogue and i am so sorry lajsdflksjdf. i also had NO IDEA how the hell to end this, so its??????? A mess. A literal mess, lmao. 
> 
> Anywho, i want to give a hugeeeee big warm shoutout to amanda who is literally the only reason why this chapter is up to begin with. Amanda, i know you’re reading this, and i hope you know that i am in love with everything you are and im so thankful to have you in my life. I wish i was as good at writing as you bc this chapter would be so much better if i was, but regardless… your support has been so motivational and inspiring and phew im crying. thank you thank you thank you thank you.
> 
> lastly, if you are here reading this story then you are taking time out of your day to read something i wrote and that means the world to me. i hope you enjoy your stay.
> 
> If you have any questions, hit me up on instagram @clovesorder or if you just wanna be friends. I post lots of clato there and you can get all the updates on the story there as well! For a playlist based off this story, take this link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Zt173JcvaccMBQ3MyJSsd?si=jD7jtyL3SPSb4hTe2-Da8A
> 
> Thank you again,  
graceful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm the first to admit that I'm reckless  
I get lost in your beauty and I can't see two feet in front of me  
And I know in my heart, you're just a moving part"  
Fool's Gold by One Direction

It smelled like weed and booze. Two things Clove didn’t enjoy but was surrounding herself with anyways.

The beer sloshed around her cup as she shoved past bodies quickly, desperate for a gulp of fresh air. Music pounded in her chest, smoke made her head foggy, and the beer tasted like piss. Clove set her cup down on an empty table and pushed herself out the backdoor, where she was greeted with the humid Summer air.

It smelled less like the house did, which she was grateful for, but a group of people were seated on the patio chairs passing around a pipe and the smoke went straight into her direction. So, she stepped down the stairs and made herself home on the swing connected to the playhouse. Her eyes searched the backyard slowly - making a note of who was with who, how big the house was, how blue the pool was, and how loud the boys pushing each other around were _trying_ to be.

Clove took a deep breath, grabbing the chains to the swing. Her DD for the night was nowhere to be found and Clove was certain she was no longer a ride. The only thing Clove wanted more than water, was to go home to her bed.

“I know you.”

Clove looked up, “I know you too.”

“Why are you out here and not in there with the rest of the team?”

“Needed some fresh air.” Clove shrugged, “What about you, hm?”

Cato raised his water bottle, “I’m the DD and they were trying to get me to play beer pong.”

“Ah.” Clove hummed, looking back at her shoes.

Cato walked up to her slowly. Settling down in the swing next to her, “We should have talked more.”

Clove looked at him with raised eyebrows, “What?”

“Like during track season… well, outside of track too.”

“Oh.” Clove nodded slightly, “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Cato repeated, looking away from her, “This last season went by fast.”

“No kidding.” Clove sighed, “This whole year did.”

“True.” Cato took a sip of his water and swayed on the swing, “You got any plans after this? School, work?”

Clove shrugged, “School.”

“Where?” Cato asked. Clove turned to look at him slowly. He wasn’t looking at her, which made it easier to give him a confused look. The silence dragged out and Cato turned to look at her, “What?”

“Nothing.” Clove spit out quickly, looking away from him.

“You were just staring at me, Rivers.”

“I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“About this conversation.” Clove glanced at him, “I haven’t ever really _talked_ to you before. Other than, maybe at practice. I’m wondering if this confidence is only there because it’s the end of summer and you will never have to see me again.”

Cato noticed the twitch of a smirk on her lips and chuckled, “Actually, that’s not… right at all. I’ve _always_ wanted to talk to you, but I’m just-“

“Busy?’

“No.”

“You’re pretty busy.” Clove smirked now, looking at him. “Mr. Rauls.”

Cato scrunched up his nose, “Don’t call me that.”

Her smirk faded, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Ms. Rivers.”

“Okay, yeah… it’s weird now.” Clove was the one to scrunch her nose up now and Cato laughed, leaning his head back slightly. Clove shook her head at him then smiled, “I was just giving you shit earlier, by the way.”

“Sure,” Cato winked, sipping his water.

Clove rolled her eyes and looked back towards the house. A group of girls ran out the backdoor, ripping off their shirts before jumping into the pool, “I really want to go to bed.”

“Me too.” Cato sighed. “You have anything to drink?”

“Yeah, like three shitty beers.”

“You want a ride home?”

Clove looked at Cato, “I have a ride.”

“Where?”

“In there.” Clove nudged her head towards the house, “Somewhere.”

“Who?”

“Ivy.” Clove sighed.

“You know she’s absolutely shit piled right now? She just got done playing beer pong with Damien.”

“I should have seen that coming. She’s had the biggest, fattest, fucking crush on him.”

Cato smirked, “Oh really?”

“Don’t tell him I said anything.”

“I don’t need to, trust me.” Cato chuckled, “I think she’s already made that quite obvious.”

Clove sighed, “Alright.” She rose to her feet slowly, “I’ll take the ride.”

Cato looked up at her, “Right now?”

“Did you mean now?”

“I can if you wanna go.”

“Well, don’t you need to give your buddy a ride home?”

“Damien was my buddy,” Cato smirked again. “I think we’re fine.”

“Jesus.” Clove snorted, “Let’s go.”

Cato stood up and led the way. Walking out the back gate towards the street, digging his hand into his shorts pocket to pull out the key.

“How far away did you park?” Clove asked, rubbing her arms slightly as she walked next to him.

“Not too far.” Cato pointed, “Far enough that if the party got busted, my car wouldn’t be noticed, though.”

“Perfect.” Clove chuckled.

“By the way,” Cato glanced at her, “my car… is..”

“Super nice.” Clove looked at him, “I know. I saw you driving the other day. Not that I stalk you or anything. I was pulling into the parking lot as you were leaving. I wanted to honk, but you were on the phone, so I didn’t.”

“I wasn’t going to say that but thank you for the car compliment.” Cato nudged her lightly, “I was going to say it’s kinda messy.”

“Oh.” Clove sucked her cheeks in for a second, “My bad.”

“You should have honked, by the way.”

“Next time.” Clove looked up at him with a quick wink.

They walked about a block before Cato’s headlights flashed as he unlocked the car. It was a nice, silver, 2012 Mercedes. She walked around towards the passenger’s side door but was stopped when Cato cut in front of her, opening the door with a grand gesture and a sly grin on his face.

“Chivalry isn’t dead.” Clove stuck her tongue out at him before getting into the car. She heard his laugh before the door closed. It was only until Cato got into the seat next to her, that she realized exactly what was happening.

Freshman year, Clove watched Cato from afar in track practice. She only spoke to him twice the whole year; once to ask for a pencil and the second time was when the coach made her deliver water bottles. Ivy was the only one who knew how badly she wanted to sit down and listen to him talk for hours upon hours.

Sophomore year, Clove caught him drawing in History class during a movie. It was impressive beyond belief, so she brought it up at practice and they talked. She’s almost positive she didn’t stop smiling the whole time.

Junior year, Cato lost his mother. Clove remembered glancing at his empty seat in Biology. She remembered whispers across the school. She could remember how desperate the girls were to make him smile. During the football season, Cato half assed most games and was benched the rest of them. He started going to parties more, and she only knew that because his Facebook would blow up with photos. She didn’t catch him drawing anymore, but he would talk to her about it at track practice. She can still see his face light up at the mention of it. His blue eyes crinkling up at the sides when he’d smile too big. She’s almost positive he wouldn’t stop smiling the whole time and she listened to him for hours.

Senior year, Clove sat next to him in English during second semester. Cato would draw in his journal during class and sometimes he would show her at practice. Clove would act like a critic and he would jot down fake notes. He would time her sprints; she would watch his high jumps. When they graduated high school, he signed her yearbook and she signed his.

But, when Clove _really_ thought about it, they never spent time together outside of school or track practice. Cato still hung out with his regular friends and Clove would always hang out with hers. During lunch, they didn’t sit next to each other or even acknowledge each other in the lunch line. When Cato sat next to her in class, he only talked to her when he had a question or wanted to show her a quick sketch. They never had each other’s numbers. They never sat down and learned each other’s favorite foods or TV shows.

They were two ships passing by every now and then.

And now, Cato was giving her a ride home in his fancy car while he hummed the song that was playing on the radio. His car smelled like Axe cologne and McDonalds french fries. There was some garbage in the backseat and a couple loose clothing pieces on the seats, but it wasn’t messy.

“You’re really quiet.”

Clove’s skin jumped, “Sorry. I was just noticing how un-messy your car really is. But it does kind of smell like French fries.”

Cato snorted, “I had some on the way here.”

“That sounds really good right now.” Clove leaned her head back on the seat and watched the lights go by as Cato drove.

“You wanna stop and get some?” Cato asked.

“No,” Clove looked at him, “it’s fine. I didn’t bring any money.”

“I can pay.”

“I can’t let you do that, sorry.”

“Too late. You made me want a McFlurry.” Cato flipped on his blinker and pulled into the left turn lane.

“Cato, seriously.”

“Clove, seriously.”

Clove exhaled slowly, looking forwards, “Whatever. I just won't order.”

“I can order for you.”

_Fuck_, Clove thought to herself. “I can pay you back.”

“No need.”

Cato rolled up to the drive thru as his window lowered. The speaker crackled twice before the voice on the other end asked what he wanted. Cato glanced at Clove before poking his head out the window, “Hi, may I please get a large M&M vanilla McFlurry and a large fry?”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” Cato said and Clove sighed, rubbing her hands on her bare thighs. The air conditioner in his car sent goosebumps up her skin and she regretted not bringing a sweatshirt. Cato drove up to the window, behind a car, then turned around in his seat, grabbing a piece of clothing from the backseat that dropped in Clove’s lap seconds later, “Here. You look cold.”

“Thanks.” She mumbled, pulling the sweatshirt over her head. It smelled better than the car, which only made her think the Axe scent was probably from Damien.

“Better?” Cato asked, grinning at her.

Clove nodded.

“Cool.”

Once Cato paid for the food, he drove out the parking lot and straight into another one across the street. He put the car in park and got out, walking around to open the door for Clove who stepped out slowly. The park was dark, but the streetlights made it bright enough to see where they were going as Cato walked over to the swings. He sat down, looking up at Clove as she hesitated.

“You aren’t going to like, kill me or something, right?” Clove said, raising her eyebrows. “You just brought me to a park in the middle of the night.”

Cato chuckled, “Sit down, Clove. Just be thankful you’re not at the party anymore.”

“Trust me,” Clove said, sitting in the swing next to him, “I am very thankful. And thank you for the fries, by the way. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No worries.” Cato smiled, “Like I said, I wanted a McFlurry.”

Clove gave him a small smile before she began scarfing down the fries.

They stayed quiet for a while. Both eating their food as the crickets chirped around them. Only a few cars drove by making Clove tense up slightly. Despite being eighteen, she was worried a cop would approach them.

When Cato finished his McFlurry, he set the empty cup on the mulch and looked at Clove, “So, where are you going to school?”

Clove licked the salt off her lips, “University of Chicago. I’m going for baking and pastry art.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have taken you as a baking type.” Cato chuckled. “That’s cool though.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty excited.” Clove shrugged, “What about you?”

Cato looked at his feet, “Loyola. For hospitality management.”

“Sounds interesting. Are you looking forward to it?” Clove asked, noticing his change of attitude.

“Kinda.”

“Just kinda?”

“To be honest,” Cato looked at her, “I’m not at all.”

Clove stayed quiet.

“My dad really wants me to get more into the whole hotel business thing and I have… no desire. I’d rather go to school for art or something.” Cato sighed, “It’s whatever, though.”

“Well why not do that?” Clove’s voice was more of a whisper and Cato looked away from her again. “I mean, why don’t you just do what you love instead of what your dad wants?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Cato asked, looking at her. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Rivers.”

“I feel bad for pushing.”

“You didn’t push.” Cato reached out his hand and poked her arm, “Trust me.”

Clove gave him a slight frown then looked down at her lap. “How is your dad, by the way?”

“He’s fine.” Cato looked around the park, “He’s normally pretty busy. Not home all that often. Which isn’t always a bad thing, but I do miss him.”

“I bet.” Clove looked over the side of his face, “I’m sure he misses you too.”

“Maybe.”

Clove stood up from the swing, walking towards the playground backward as she looked at Cato, “Let’s not think about all that shit. It’s our last day of Summer.”

Cato watched her, a smile growing on his face, “That sweatshirt is _huge_ on you.”

Clove looked down at the sweatshirt and chuckled. It reached the middle of her thighs, “Yeah, it’s fucking big.”

“It’s basically a dress,” Cato said, standing up. Clove’s eyes flicked back up in his direction as he walked towards her. “Looks good on you.”

“Does it?” Clove smirked.

“Yeah.” Cato stepped closer to her, pulling on one of the strings. “I’d let you keep it but it’s the only sweatshirt I got from track and I’m sure you have plenty.”

“I do, indeed.”

Cato looked over her face. It was still too dark to make out some of her features, like the color of her eyes, but he could see the small dots that scattered across her face. He could see the way her lips twitched when she glanced at his and he could hear her breath catch when he gently pushed aside some loose pieces of hair.

Why he took this long to get her alone, was beyond him.

She was perfect without even trying.

“You’re really pretty, Clove.”

Clove glanced away from him, biting the inside of her cheek for a moment. Her voice was quiet when she spoke, “Sush…”

“I’m serious.” Cato said, “You’re-“

His lips tasted like ice cream and chocolate. They were soft, pressing against hers slowly as she leaned into him. She was going to keep going, she was going to wrap her arms around his neck, but instead she pulled away and stepped back from him, “I’m sorry. I should of… asked if… I mean, I didn’t mean to… like just… kiss you… like that.”

Cato stayed quiet for a moment, “You wanna sleep at my place tonight?”

“What?”

“Do you want to sleep at my house? I can have you back home early in the morning.” Cato glanced at her lips, “It’s okay if-“

“Yes.” Clove interrupted, “Yeah, sure.”

They were back in his car quickly. Grabbing their garbage by the swings before hopping into their seats. Clove could hear her heartbeat in her chest as Cato drove. She was worried he might have been able to hear it because he kept glancing over at her every couple of minutes.

Clove knew they got to his neighborhood when the houses started getting bigger and the road had less bumps. The streetlights were more vibrant and the lawns a bit more manicured.

Cato pulled into his driveway and shut off his car, looking at Clove before getting out, “I can take you home if you don’t want to sleepover, Clove.”

“It’s fine, Cato.” Clove looked at him and smiled slightly, “Trust me.”

Cato nodded then got out of his car. Clove followed him inside, immediately captivated by how beautiful his home was. Every inch of the house was decorated perfectly. Big, incredible pieces of art hung on some of the walls next to family photos. She watched them go by as Cato headed up the stairs to his room, “Do you want anything to drink? Water? Soda?”

“I’m alright.”

“If you change your mind, just let me know.”

“Sounds good.”

Cato pushed open a door and flicked on the light, “This is my room. Pardon the mess.”

Clove looked around as she stepped inside the room. The walls were painted a dark blue, the carpet squished under her toes and his bed was almost bigger than her bathroom back at home. There was pinned art all over one of the walls with a plastic mat down to keep the paint from staining the floor. She smiled, glancing at Cato as he kicked his shoes to the side, “I love your room.”

Cato chuckled, “Thanks.”

“It’s not messy. You think everything is messy. First your car and now your room…” Clove rolled her eyes, “It’s really clean, actually. And it smells good. Like paint and… Christmas?”

“Christmas?” Cato laughed, “I have an old candle from like, January. That’s probably why.”

“It smells good.” Clove smiled more, looking at him, “Smells like comfort.”

“That’s a nice way to describe it.”

Clove shrugged.

“Well,” Cato rubbed the back of his neck, “make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Clove glanced across his room, “for letting me stay here.”

“Of course.” Cato smiled. “Do you need… like… sweatpants or something to wear?”

“Oh.” Clove looked down at her shorts, lifting Cato’s sweatshirt slightly, “Um, maybe? This sweatshirt is kinda long so…”

Cato raised his eyebrows, “Oh, yeah. That’s fine.”

Clove could feel the heat on her cheeks, “Unless you’re not comfortable-“

“No, it’s fine.” Cato shook his head, “Unless you’re-“

Clove laughed, “I’m going to take off my shorts.”

“Right.” Cato nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

Clove undid her zipper then yanked off the shorts, picking them up and folding them neatly on his dresser. She pulled the hem of his sweatshirt down a little before looking at him again, “See, you were right. It’s a dress.”

Cato stayed quiet.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s probably not stupid.”

Cato rubbed his jaw then sat down on the edge of his bed, “I just… I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Clove walked up to him, head tilted down as she stood in front of him.

Cato’s eyes scanned up her legs slowly before he met her eye, “I really like you.”

“You do?”

“I honestly have for a while.”

Clove looked over his face, “I… um… I didn’t… know that.”

“Yeah…”

“It’s not a bad thing, cause I…I have always had, like, a crush on you. Since like Freshman year.”

Cato chuckled, “Shut up.”

“I’m serious, Cato.” Clove chuckled, “Our first day of track practice I told Ivy and she tried to get me to talk to you, but I didn’t. And whenever coach made anyone bring you and the others water bottles, I would do it just to try and talk to you, but I never did because I’m a massive wimp. It wasn’t until I saw you drawing in class that I finally had the courage to say something because I found it so cool and you obviously really enjoyed it.”

“So, it wasn’t just because of my great looks?” Cato smirked.

“That part is just an added bonus,” Clove winked. “I think you’re really cool and an overall great guy. You’re always so nice to people and do such a good job in sports. You always listened to me when I talked and you’re always so honest with how you feel. You’re like, amazing, Cato. I’m serious. And I hope that you know that, because you should. And I also hope that you never stop drawing and loving art and all that jazz because you’re so talented.”

“Clove…”

“I just know, for a fact, that your mama would be so fucking proud of who you are today, Cato. Because I know I am, and I’m just some girl.”

“You’re not just some girl, Clove.”

“It doesn’t matter who I am, Cato.” Clove pushed apart Cato’s legs and stood in-between them, “I just want you to know that I really like who you are.”

Cato looked over her face, unable to find the words he wanted to say. He put his hands on her legs, sliding them up until they were under his sweatshirt on her hips. Her skin was warm as he brought her closer to him, laying back on his bed so she could crawl on top of him carefully.

Kissing her was easy and listening to her hum as he ran his hands across her body, made him itch to have more than her lips. But Cato wasn’t that guy and Clove was better than just some girl. So, he kissed her slowly, carefully. Up her neck, across her cheeks, her hands. He played with her hair when she fell asleep on his bed, wearing his sweatshirt. He tried to count the number of freckles on her cheeks but fell asleep on number one hundred.

When he woke up, her side of the bed was empty. Clove had left her number on his nightstand and his sweatshirt on his dresser.

When Clove got home, her clothes smelled like Christmas and paint.

He never sent her a text.

She had to wash her clothes four times to get the smell out.

He packed his sweatshirt first.

She thought of him whenever she walked by the art museum in downtown Chicago.

He threw away all his paint brushes.

She checked his Instagram every now and then.

He forgot the color of her eyes when he found a pair of grey ones.

She kissed boys that tasted like liquor.

He fell asleep counting sheep.

She found comfort in the smell of Fall.

They were two ships in two different oceans going the opposite way.


	2. 'cause after all these years, i still feel everything when you are near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'Cause after all these years  
I still feel everything when you are near  
And it was just a quick hello  
And you had to go  
And you probably will never know  
You're still the one I'm after all these years"  
All These Years // Camila Cabello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO, welcome back to this mess that i am calling my nanowrimo project!!!!! although it’s really not a project at all and this story actually means a lot to me, lol. nano is just an excuse for me to actually sit down and write and so far, i would say it’s working… for now.
> 
> I wont lie, this chapter absolutely got away from me and i cried four times writing it because i had no idea how to start it, continue writing it, where to end it, and how to end it. so, i deeply apologize for the mess you are about to read.
> 
> as i said though, this story means a lot to me. i would call it my baby, but “two”, the first ever fic i finished (thats on *gasp* wattpad) technically is… oh and pinky promise. 
> 
> anyways, i want to give a massive shout out to amanda who has gassed me up constantly when it came to this fic and i cannot thank you enough for the love you’ve always given me. i love you till the end of the world and long after that. im not worthy of your friendship.
> 
> i also wanna shout out ally who listens to me talk about this fic at the randomest times and has been my cheerleader for quite some time now. i love you so much. Uwu
> 
> lastly, a shout out to both amanda and em who are also doing nano this year (again, and also most likely going to crush the shit out of it). I am glad i am not doing this alone and im also really glad (although im stressed) you got me into this tradition overall. 
> 
> okay im done now. i hope you enjoy the very first official chapter of the brand new WWA. i appreciate your words, kudos, and reads so so so so much. 
> 
> as always, If you have any questions, hit me up on instagram @clovesorder or if you just wanna simply be friends. i post lots of clato and you can get all the updates on the story there as well! 
> 
> for a playlist based off this story, take this link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Zt173JcvaccMBQ3MyJSsd?si=jD7jtyL3SPSb4hTe2-Da8A

If there was anything Clove hated more than packing, it was unpacking.

It probably didn’t help that she had packed poorly; putting everything in specific boxes with special labels so no one got anything mixed up. Not to mention the fact that they had started unpacking at six in the morning – the clock on her phone now reading eleven. She was just placing the last box on her bedroom floor when Finch skipped into her room holding a packet of papers.

“So, I think we have everything. I made sure to take a tab,” Finch said in a sing-song voice. “Your dad also said he will drop off your new mattress later today.” 

Clove glanced at her twin bed and nodded, “Sounds good. Thanks, Finch.” 

“That’s what I am here for.”

Clove met Finch during her first year of college. It was a total act of God because Clove was at her lowest first semester. Whether she was crying over missing home, not knowing most of her measurement conversions, having a roommate who stayed out too late and returned too loud, or simply not having any friends to do anything at all with – Finch came at the perfect time.

She was reading over her notes in the library when Finch had sat across from her, orange hair in tangles, bright blue eyes filled with tears. Clove didn’t want to intrude, but Finch wanted to talk, “Boys fucking suck.” 

“That’s true.” 

“Like literally, they are pigs who only care about themselves and once you give them what they want, you might as well be chopped liver. I mean, _ seriously_? Why bother telling me you like me if you’re just going to run off with some hotter, fitter, cooler version of me?”

They talked for hours after that. Finch told her all about her ex-boyfriend ditching her for some English major, Clove told her about her home life, they talked about their majors, and eventually ditched the library to get coffee in the cafeteria.

If it wasn’t for Finch, Clove probably wouldn’t have graduated college. She was there at every hour of the day. Sophomore year they both made sure to be each other’s dorm mate and by Senior year they had already searched all over Chicago for a perfect apartment. 

The only problem was that back then they were two broke girls who had only a few hundred dollars between the two of them. So, instead of moving into their dream apartment they both moved back home for a few years to rack up some cash and now they’re standing in their brand-new apartment located in downtown Chicago, with the prettiest view of Lake Michigan

There was a soft knock on Clove’s door and both girls turned to look as Clove’s mother walked into the room, “This place is going to turn out great.” 

Clove smiled, “I think we’re both looking forward to decorating.” 

“I remember when you were both only twenty, sitting on the porch back at home roasting marshmallows in footie pajamas and now you own your own apartment” Mrs. Rivers pressed a hand against her chest, “I’m just so proud of you both.” 

“Thanks Mrs. Rivers,” Finch smiled, “that means a lot.” 

“Of course.” Mrs. Rivers crossed her arms, “Is there anything else you need before we take off? Money, groceries?” 

“We have both of those things, ma.” 

“I don’t think Ramen noodles and cosmic brownies count as groceries.”

Clove laughed, “They do in my world, but we really are okay. You and dad should head home and get some rest. It’s been a long morning.” 

Clove wrapped her arms around her mother and exhaled slowly. Her mothers’ perfume tickled her nose slightly, but she relished in the moment as long as she could before Finch joined in on the hug. 

“Am I missing the goodbye?” Clove’s father interrupted, wrapping his arms across all three girls tightly, “Wouldn’t wanna do that.”

Clove was the first one to pull back, “Thank you both for the help today. It means a lot.” 

“Of course, kiddo.” Mr. Rivers ruffled his daughter’s hair, “Call us anytime if you ever need anything. Both of you. Got it?”

“You got it.” Finch responded, nudging Clove slightly. 

“Alright, well… I’ll be over later to drop off the mattress for you, Clove. Will you ladies be home?” 

“I will be.” Clove nodded, “Not till around five though because I have work orientation. You could just drop it off tomorrow if that’s easier.” 

“I’ll be home.” Finch wrapped an arm around Clove’s shoulder, “Just stop by whenever and I can help bring it up.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mr. Rivers smiled. “See you around… two maybe?” 

“Two is perfect.” 

“Great.” Mr. Rivers turned to look at his wife who gave him a soft smile, “I suppose we should head out then.” 

“Love you guys.” Clove shoved her hands into her shorts back pockets, “Let me know when you get home safe.” 

“Will do, kiddo.”

Clove’s parents left with a quick kiss on the cheek and the girls were left alone in their apartment. Finch immediately sprinting off to her bedroom to begin the decorating process, while Clove checked her email to make sure she had the time right for work orientation. 

She scored a job at a bakery coffeehouse called Rosebud, located in downtown Chicago. Only a few blocks away from their apartment - which was nice considering Clove loved to run. Running and baking, two of her favorite things all a few blocks apart. Clove sat up and tossed her phone aside and looked around at her box filled room, smiling to herself. 

It was nice for her to feel like an adult after living with her parents for a while. Right after college she was as broke as broke could be and much to her dismay, had nowhere else to go but home. Of course, there are perks of living with your parents; no rent, free dinner, and the best of all: no bills. However, staying out too late with your friends and coming home absolutely shit piled, accidentally waking up your mother while you hack up shots of Fireball you shouldn’t have taken, wasn’t the best way to go about life. Not to mention, if she ever wanted to bring a guy over, she didn’t bring him over at all. It was always the typical, “aha, lets head back to your place.” To which would always end up in the dirty bedroom with ‘SATURDAYS ARE FOR THE BOYS’ flags pinned to the walls. 

The only problem Clove ever seemed to struggle with the most, was a career. People always say that graduating college in a degree in arts isn’t a great idea for the mere fact that it’s incredibly hard to find a job in the arts. But what they fail to tell you is that a degree in Baking and Pastry Arts, is basically the same thing.

Right after college, when Clove was younger, her plan was to open her own bakery. Growing up in a household with a mother who is not only a dentist, but also vegan, set up many roadblocks for her sugary palate. It didn’t help that her father was obsessed with health and made sure that Clove was always at her strongest for sporting events. It was like growing up inside a jailhouse with the only punishment being potato soup for dinner _ again _. So, Clove took it upon herself to fall in love with anything flour could make and all through high school she signed up for every single cooking class there was - to then finally apply to The University of Chicago the minute she had her last day of Junior year.

Scoring a job at Rosebud was lucky. Most places in Chicago weren’t hiring this time around because a majority of the college kids had already taken the easy jobs; but the owner, Mr. Snow, seemed eager over the email he had sent asking for a phone interview. The job requirement was right up her alley, other than the coffee part – which she had no knowledge of. You needed at least a year of experience in baking, needed to understand basic people interaction, you needed to be flexible, and she had to be awake by three in the morning to start work by four. It was the one thing Clove wasn’t looking forward to, but the job paid sixteen dollars an hour (with tips when she was a barista), which was just enough to help pay for any bills her and Finch were about to face. 

So, she accepted the offer with grace while Finch took on a paid internship with the Chicago Review and the girls put money down on a security deposit as soon as possible. Next thing they knew, they were packing up their childhood bedrooms at their parents’ places and shoving boxes into a UHaul. 

The apartment was nice, to say the least; two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large living room and a kitchen big enough for the both of them. All the appliances had been updated recently and it came with a washer and dryer, which Clove’s mom insisted they made sure to have. It was also an added bonus that both their parents had decided to donate a lot of their old electronics and furniture to them. It was home, almost… After a few days of unboxing, maybe.

“Hey, Finch?” Clove called out, stepping out of her room slowly. “I’m going to shower and get ready for my orientation.”

“Okay!” Finch said from her bedroom, “I’ll be here.” 

The shower felt good. Washing away the sweat that had built up from earlier morning and giving her scalp a break from the high ponytail it was stuck in. Clove was in and out of the shower quickly. Changing into a pair of comfortable skinny jeans and a plain white shirt. The walk to the bakery was about fifteen minutes - less if she ran, but she didn't want to show up out of breath and sweaty on her first day. 

Clove made sure to take note of the places she passed on the way to work. She had noticed a comic bookstore with a giant Kylo Ren cutout in the window and immediately texted Finch the address for later. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t too crowded aside from the occasional businessman talking too loud on their phone and the student focused on their shoes below them – not the people ahead of them. 

She made her way into the bakery slowly and fixed her hair, biting the inside of her cheek as she glanced around. It smelled like coffee, chocolate, and vanilla all at once – a comforting yet dramatic sense.

Clove wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to do or who she was supposed to be reporting to, so she walked up to the counter and gave the blonde-haired girl working the register a soft smile, “Hi, uh, I’m here for orientation?”

“Oh!” The girl smiled, “You must be Clove.” 

Clove nodded, “That is me indeed.” 

“I’m Glimmer.” Glimmer stuck her hand out across the counter and her smile got bigger.

Clove shook her hand, “Clove, obviously. Nice to meet you.” 

“You too!” Glimmer chuckled, pushing some hair behind her ear. “Come around back and we can get you your uniform.” 

Clove glanced around before pushing herself through the swinging door, meeting the tall blonde on the other side. She was beautiful, to say the least. Clove found it slightly intimidating, but Glimmer’s smile was too bright to have her assume the worst. “So, are you the manager?” 

“Basically,” Glimmer shrugged, leading her through the back. “I take care of almost everything, but my grandfather, Mr. Snow, actually owns the place so I kinda just… take over when needed. Which is a majority of the time. He’s old, ya know?” 

Clove’s eyebrows raised, “I didn’t know he was your grandfather.” 

“Oh yeah.” Glimmer chuckled, walking into a room with cubbies against the wall. “I don’t have his last name anymore – or I guess my father’s last name because I’m married, but…” Glimmer shrugged, stopping in front of a cubby, “that’s whatever. Anyways, this is your cubby. You can keep all your work stuff in here. And don’t worry about anyone stealing anything. There are cameras everywhere.” 

Clove turned to look at the small square and nodded, “Awesome. Thanks.” 

“Course. Let’s get you that uniform.” 

“Uh, Mr. Snow wanted me to let you know that-“ 

“You get the baker and barista uniform?” Glimmer smiled over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, I have both. I also sent the email, not him.” 

“Oh.” Clove chuckled, “Well, you’re great at getting back to people. I was impressed by your attentiveness.” 

“It’s a habit. My husband is a teacher so I’m always checking my email to talk to him while he’s at school. So, I check my grandfathers at the same time. Two birds with one stone.” 

“Where does your husband teach?” Clove glanced around the breakroom – which was just as sleek as the café – as Glimmer led her towards a bin.

“Lincoln High, just a few miles away. Thankfully in the city.”

“Really?” Clove smiled, “That’s awesome. To have your husband so close, I mean.” 

“Yeah, it’s great.” Glimmer smiled at her then opened the bin. The lid making a loud ripping sound as it peeled off. “What size are you?” 

"Shirt wise?” 

“Yes.” 

“Small.” 

Glimmer reached into the bin and grabbed a black shirt before handing it over, “Tiny little thing.” 

Clove felt her cheeks burn, “Sadly.” 

“Trust me girl, small boobs are _ in _. I’d kill for your chest. The bralettes do not favor these puppies.” Glimmer cupped her chest and chuckled. 

Clove didn’t know how to respond, so she gave her a smile. 

“Anyways,” Glimmer clapped her hands together. “Let’s show you around.” 

Rosebud was a quaint little place – even though it was far from being a little café. The walls were all a sleek white brick, the floor a grey cement, tables and chairs looked straight out of an IKEA catalogue, small (fake) succulents neatly placed on various shelves, and vintage signs with quotes like “I LOVE YOU A LATTE” or “A CUP A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY” hung against the brick. Clove assumed it was not Mr. Snow decorating the place, but rather Glimmer who stopped in front of the espresso machine, “So your resume said you’ve never done any barista work before?”

Clove shook her head no, “Sadly no. I just drink it.”

Glimmer chuckled, "Well, it's pretty simple to be honest with you." Glimmer grabbed a rag off the top of the machine and held it up to Clove, "Watch and learn."

She was right, it was simple. All you had to do was simply pour some milk into a metal container, hold it up to a weird straw looking thing, twist a knob which then blew steam into the milk, then you’d start at the bottom them slowly work the metal rod up until the thermometer was at 120 degrees, and finally foam appeared (if you did it right, which Clove didn’t do the first four tries). After all that was done you simply poured the milk into a to-go cup, stirred it with a small whisk (if you put syrup on the bottom), put a dollop of whipped cream on top (if the customer asked), and then smacked a lid on.

"You're a natural." Glimmer chuckled.

"Please," Clove scoffed, "that took me at least four tries."

"Still, you did it. Over time it will become second nature and you'll learn to appreciate the art that is coffee making."

Clove watched as Glimmer cleaned off the milk on the rod then blew some steam out carefully to get the excess milk out of the rod, "If I would have known all the steps you have to do in order to make the coffee, maybe I would have been a little bit more patient during college."

Glimmer laughed, "Trust me. There's a difference in college coffee and regular coffee."

"Is that so?"

"Of course." Glimmer nodded, setting the rag on top of the machine again, "College coffee is normally made on a machine where all they have to do is press a simple button and BAM!" Glimmer clapped her hands together, "You have a fake vanilla latte that cost you almost seven dollars."

Clove chuckled, "Wow. Maybe I should go rally outside the library and demand my money back."

"You should," Glimmer said, nodding. "They owe you big time."

"So how busy does this place normally get?" Clove asked, looking around the area. For a Tuesday afternoon, there wasn't a lot of people in the café.

"It really depends on the day and time, and also the weather." Glimmer shrugged, "It's the school year so a lot of times we have students coming in here to use the wifi - which we just allow - and other times its businessmen or women that come in here super early before work. You'll notice a few regulars we have overtime."

"Since this is Chicago, do you have any famous faces ever?"

Glimmer pressed her lips together, "Not really. I mean, maybe some rich, popular business people... occasionally a photographer, but no one like Taylor Swift or Harry Styles.”

"That was a stupid question." Clove chuckled, "I was curious though."

"No questions are stupid." Glimmer poked her cheek, "Let's head into the break room. I have some things I need to go over with you."

Glimmer began to turn away, motioning Clove to follow when a voice bubbled up across the counter. The girl across from was in a black suit with hair that was curled perfectly. She smiled and gave them both a quick wave, "Hi. I was wondering if I could order a drink quick?”

"Oh, sure." Glimmer nodded, "How are you, by the way?"

The girl sighed, "Gosh, so busy all the time, honestly. My dad has me running around in circles trying to figure out all the future shit for- Oh wait, can I get the Mocha today?"

Glimmer froze, a cup in her hand, "Course."

"Thanks, sweets."

"Almond milk?"

The girl nodded.

"Great." Glimmer began her work again, "You were saying?"

"Oh, right." The girl crossed her arms and began speaking.

Clove listened to some of what she had to say but made sure to pay attention to Glimmer more. It wasn't until she heard a familiar name that Cloves’ head snapped up at the girl.

Glimmer chuckled, "Tell Cato to come by sometime. He's never been here, and it makes me sad. We make the best Americanos."

"He does like plain black coffee, so I will let him know." The girl chuckled.

"Well," Glimmer reached the cup over and the girl took it from her hands while handing over her card so Glimmer could swipe it, "be sure to tell him I say hi." 

"Will do." The girl glanced at Clove and smiled, "Are you training today?"

Glimmer jumped up quickly, "Oh my god, I totally forgot." Glimmer turned to face Clove and smiled, "Yeah, I'm training. This is Clove. Clove, this is Katniss a _long _ time regular."

Katniss gave Clove a wave, "Nice to meet you. I'm sure I'll be seeing you more now."

Clove felt like someone had glued roof of her mouth shut, so she gave Katniss a quick nod.

Katniss smiled more, "I should go, I don't wanna be late for the meeting. Thanks again, Glimmer."

"My pleasure, have a good rest of your day!"

"You too, love."

Clove watched the brunette walk away, the glue in her mouth coming loose when she was finally out the door. "Did you mean, Cato... as in Cato-"

"Rauls?" Glimmer smirked, "I sure did. That's Katniss Everdeen. The daughter of the guy who owns Everdeen Hotels. She's easily the richest person we have come in here. I met her a few years ago when we first opened."

"Cato Rauls like, the guy whose dad has a hotel here?"

Glimmer narrowed her eyebrows, still smirking, "Yes...? Why, do you have a crush on him? Did the magazine covers sweep you off your feet?"

Clove blinked, "What? No."

"Then why are you so shocked? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I uh," Clove chuckled awkwardly, "I went to High School with him."

"No shit?" Glimmer put her hands on her chest, "That’s so cool. What was he like?"

That was a question Clove used to answer all the time her Freshman year of college. It almost became a regular thing whenever she told people she graduated from Woodstock High School. Cato had already made a big name for himself at that point - or maybe his dad did for him. Either way, people knew who he was, and they were always desperate for any information on him and of course, Clove was the one person that ended up in the position to say _ something_.

"He was..." Clove shrugged, "fine."

Glimmer gave her a deadpanned look, "Just fine?"

"Yeah," Clove nodded, "we didn't really talk a lot. He was pretty popular."

"I bet." Glimmer sighed, "I swear the day Katniss gets him to come in here is the day the press finally puts this place in a magazine. It's been _ years _ since..."

Glimmer kept talking and Clove tried to listen, but she ended up just staring at her face, nodding along at the moments that looked appropriate by her facial expressions.

The idea of Cato coming into the café on a shift she was working made her almost want to walk out of the place and run home. It had been years since she's seen his face - other than the occasional Instagram stalking she did up until her Junior year of college. And yes, she did see him on the covers of some magazines like the _Chicago_, but that was normally a quick glance over at some local Barnes & Noble.

It hadn't really occurred to her either that she was now living in his city. The chances of running him into at some point were still slim to none - unless he walked into the doors of the café right now. If Katniss was as busy as she had explained, there was no doubt Cato was just as busy.

"Ready?" Glimmer said and Clove quickly gave her, her full attention.

"Yup."

As Glimmer led Clove to the break room, Clove took one last glance at the entrance for a split second, almost wished he would have walked through the door.

***

"And there she was. Katniss Everdeen."

Finch stared at her, "Like, Cato's girlfriend?"

"No, Cato's fucking nanny - _yes_ Cato's girlfriend, Finch. Who else?"

"Did she know who you were?" Finch walked up to Clove's bed and crawled up next to her.

"Why would she know who I was? That would require Cato to have one, mentioned me. Two, mentioned me. And three-"

"Okay." Finch gave her a scowl, "I get it."

Clove laid back on her bed and sighed, "It was so weird. Hearing his name."

"Don't tell me you're suddenly obsessed with him again."

"I was _ never _ obsessed with him."

"Your Instagram searches say otherwise."

Clove gave her a look, "I can’t help but be curious, Finch."

"Yeah, but if I recall... he literally made out with you, told you he liked you, then just... never called or texted you. Sounds like he never deserved you in the first place."

"I'm very aware of how that night went, Finch. I lived it and I still think about it."

"It was years ago." Finch laid down next to her, "You can’t let one stupid thing consume you."

"It doesn't consume me." Clove turned to face Finch and frowned, "It's just weird hearing his name again from someone other than a podcast, you, the TV, or someone in my dreams."

Finch sighed and sat up again, "Well. I have to start dinner, so I'll let you relish in this self-pity until I'm done and then," Finch pointed at her, "you need to cut the shit and get over it. Cato is just a boy and you are so much better than him."

"Just call for me when dinner is ready, Finch."

"Boo-hoo." Finch rolled her eyes then walked out of Clove's room.

Clove stretched herself across the bed, which her dad had brought over while she was still at work. Thankfully, him and Finch had set up her bed sheets as well, so Clove was able to change out of her clothes and into a pair of PJs before settling down.

Glimmer didn't ask any more questions the rest of the day, but that didn't stop Clove from flinching every time the door swung open and another blonde college guy walked in. She didn't know _ why _ she was allowing Cato to have so much of her brain. Finch was right, he wasn't deserving of it, but it was true: Clove thought about him more than she would like to admit.

For the longest time, during college, Clove would catch herself walking by the art museum in hopes he was sitting on the stairs enjoying lunch. The Instagram stalking normally happened at night so she could cry into her pillow in anger. The more she thought back to those nights, the stupider she felt for not recognizing Katniss in the first place.

Cato posted about her every now and then, but probably not as much as Katniss wanted him to. Normally it was just photos of them from vacation, a birthday post, or an anniversary post. Regardless, Clove wouldn't stop herself from wondering what the captions would say if it was her in the photo, not Katniss.

The shitty part about all of it, was that they didn't end on a bad note. They just never talked again.

And while a majority of that was because of Cato, Clove didn't really blame him. As much as it hurt to check her phone for the next two weeks after leaving her number on his nightstand, only to see nothing from him - she would just brush it off. Cato was busy; he had always been busy. She never expected him to do anything, but she had always imagined that he was sincere enough to try.

Clove rubbed her face and glanced at her alarm clock. She had baker orientation tomorrow morning at four in the morning and all the talk of Cato and thoughts of him with Katniss had already cut her appetite in half.

"Finch!" Clove called out. She waited until she heard her yell back, "I'm skipping dinner, but I'll eat it for breakfast tomorrow so save me some leftovers."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I have work at four in the morning so I'm gonna just chill in bed until I fall asleep."

"Alright. Love you."

"Love you too." Clove stood up and pushed open the bathroom door across the hall from her room and quickly did her nightly routine before crawling back into bed. 

She wasn't going to do it. She was just going to set her alarm and turn off the screen, but her finger slipped, and she pulled up Cato's Instagram. 

His feed had changed a lot since the last time she peeked. It was now neat and cropped with white borders. His follower counter had gone up dramatically to a whopping one million and he unfollowed over three hundred people. The only thing that remained the same, was his bio.

_ I can’t believe you know that off the top of your head _, Clove thought to herself.

The first photo he had was a selfie that made Clove's skin feel hot. He was in a dark red suit from what it looked like and the location was Chicago, obviously. His caption was simple a simple "event night!" and Clove snorted.

She slid her finger down and almost dropped her phone at the next photo. Mirror photos were normally a stupid, shitty pose with a dumbass caption, but Cato's was _ not _ . He was shirtless, of course, but _ built _. He looked twice the size as The Rock.

> **634,141 likes  
** **thecatorauls ** working hard, or hardly working?  
**katnisseverdeen ** omg i'm blushing  
**tatirayray12 ** ur so hotttttttttttttt  
View all 432 comments

Clove felt her cheeks blush the longer she stared so she quickly swiped the photo up and looked at the next one, which was much more PG. _ So _ PG, that she smiled. He had a guitar in his hand, and even though he was staring off into the distance dramatically, he looked good. She thought about liking the photo but continued on swiping.

The rest of his feed was simple; pictures of Chicago, photos with his dad while they golfed, photos of him with Katniss, photos of himself on trips, and occasionally more selfies.

The only thing Clove never noticed, was art.

She knew Cato loved art. He had told her that his mother was acute on him studying art instead of business and she also knew that after she passed away, he was keen on hardly touching his paint brushes. Regardless, she wondered why he kept hidden away.

"Whatever." Clove whispered to herself, setting her phone back on the nightstand. "Go to bed, dummy."

***

Chicago is different when it's four in the morning. The air is less windy, but the air is cooler and the lights are not as eerie as they are at midnight. Regardless, Clove carried her pepper spray with her as she walked to work. Careful to glance over her shoulder every so often - a habit she picked up from when she went to school and a habit, she wishes she didn’t have to have in the first place.

She had woken up at two, much earlier than her alarm had been set to, and no matter how many times she tried to fall back asleep, her mind kept her up. Most nights she would have just taken a hot shower and laid in bed until her eyes gave up on the fight, but instead she ate the leftovers Finch had left her for breakfast, jogged around the block, took a shower, then got ready for work. By three-thirty she was more than ready to begin her day.

Glimmer had told her that in the mornings, the backdoor to the café was normally always unlocked if someone is inside, so when she pushed the handle, it creeped open slowly and the aroma of bread filled her nostrils. She smiled, stepping into the back room, glancing around curiously. There was music coming from the baking area softly, so Clove hung up her hoodie, clocked in, and adjusted the pony tail her hair was in and made her way towards the sound. 

A tall blonde was hunched over a wooden table reading a piece of paper. For a moment Clove hesitated, standing still unsure of what to do until the figure in front of her turned around and jumped five feet into the air.

"Holy fuck-"

"Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t know how-"

"You're fine." The boy placed a hand on his chest, "You must be Clove."

"Everyone knows who I am here." Clove chuckled, "Yeah, I'm her."

The boy stuck out his hand, "I'm Peeta."

Clove shook his hand and smiled, "Hi."

"I cannot express to you how happy I am to have someone else here with me." Peeta chuckled, "I've been the only one here this early for a long time. Most of the other bakers get here around seven or six."

Clove raised her eyebrows, "Oh, yeah. It's no problem. I'm happy I can be of assistance."

Peeta smiled, "So, you went to school for this stuff, right?"

"Yup. I graduated from the University of Chicago two years ago." Clove gave Peeta a soft smile.

"Which means you know your way around tools and measurements and all that super fun stuff." Peeta nodded, "That makes this a lot easier. Let's start with the basics then."

"Sounds good."

Peeta led Clove around the bakery swiftly, pointing out all the different ovens, mixers, and which cupboards had what in it. At one point, they stopped to try one of the fresh chocolate chip cookies - which were absolutely delicious.

Clove found herself at peace as they walked through the bakery. It was nice to be in a setting that not only smelled good but had the ambience of a grandma’s house. Not to mention, Peeta's voice was sweet and he always stopped to make sure she was understanding everything.

"The only thing that sucks about being a baker, is doing the dishes." Peeta sighed, putting his hand on a giant silver machine. "But, since our baristas already have so much shit to do, it's only fair we clean up after ourselves."

Clove chuckled, "Sounds like fun."

"Oh, that's right, you're a barista too." Peeta scrunched up his nose, "I'll do the dishes for us both."

"You don't have to do that. Trust me. I don't mind doing dishes, actually." Clove shrugged, "You just stick some headphones in and call it a day."

"Good point." Peeta chuckled, "But, you haven’t heard what you have to do as a barista yet."

"There's more than what Glimmer said?"

"What did Glimmer say? Because I am almost positive, she didn't tell you everything. She tends to get a bit carried away."

It's true, Glimmer constantly brought up a new topic during their walkthrough. Clove rubbed the back of her neck, "Just... a little about the coffee machines and where I need to clock in."

"Ah." Peeta nodded, "Well, buckle up."

It wasn't as bad as Clove thought it was going to be. Truthfully, she expected it to be a number of things. There was so much in the bakery, Clove was certain she was going to be told she had to clean every little speck of flour off of everything and mop twice. Thankfully, the tasks were much, _ much _ simpler.

If she opened, she was only in charge of whatever Peeta had set up for the bakers - which he said was normally just baking whatever the closer had prepped. However, that was her job... since she was also a barista.

"Basically," Peeta started, "you get out everything we are super low on at night and put it in this fridge so in the morning, when I get here, I can stick it in the oven. When the rest of the bakers get here, they are then in charge of packaging whatever comes out." 

"That's it?" 

Peeta pressed his lips together tightly and shook his head no, "Sadly no." 

"What else is there?" 

"Well, since you're also a barista... you are in charge of cleaning out the espresso machine, mopping the front, closing the register and shop, and doing whatever dishes that we have left over from the afternoon." 

Clove nodded and glanced around the area, "Simple enough." 

"You are so chill." Peeta chuckled, "Most people would fall over dead." 

"It's the work ethic." Clove smirked. 

Peeta gave her a tap on the shoulder, "I love it." He then motioned her to follow him as he began to walk again, "There is one more thing. The colder it gets outside, the closer we are to doing soup. It's honestly the worst thing to exist on the menu, but... Mr. Snow insists it brings in extra income so, we obey." 

"What does 'doing soup' mean?" 

"Around ten, the bakers will boil a bag - yes a _ bag _ ** – **of soup then pour it in to these silver containers." Peeta pulled a tall metal container off a shelf and held it up, "It goes in a heater thing that Glimmer has somewhere around here. Then at night, whatever we don't sell, you or whoever, are in charge of putting the rest in plastic containers and sticking it in the fridge so we can sell it the next day. You also always date it a week out from the current day. So, since today is September 15th, you would date the bottom with September 22nd." 

"Okay." Clove nodded slightly, "That makes sense, I guess."

"Trust me, you'll pick up on it quickly. It's easier than you think." Peeta smiled, "But that concludes the tour, so we should start baking before the rest get here."

"Sounds like a plan." Clove smiled.

"Lemme see what you got, Clover."

Baking was easy. Clove picked up on everything quicker than she did in college and Peeta was great company. She learned that he was married to a guy named Finnick, who worked a nine to five office job in the city. Peeta graduated from The University of Wisconsin in the same degree Clove did and moved to Chicago over three years ago and has been working here since.

When the other bakers arrived, she made small talk with a few and the rest minded their own business - which Peeta later told her not to take to heart, they were always like that. At the end of her baking shift, Clove knew that she was going to enjoy her time here more than she had originally thought. She was actually looking forward to the barista shift and was pleased to see Glimmer again with a bright smile.

Everything went according to plan the first half. Glimmer taught her a few drinks, she took a few orders, steamed her own milk, made her own espresso, and got a few tips. It wasn't until Glimmer made a small gasp next to her that Clove wanted to melt into the floor

A picture is just a picture. Tons of people judge a person's appearance by a photo instead judging a personality. Tinder is perfect example: they choose the best photos to try and score a date and then when they show up at your steps looking like they had just been hit by a bus, you deeply regret signing up for the stupid app to begin with.

In most cases, that's the case, but for Cato that's far from the truth. A photo doesn't do him any justice. In fact, it hides the many qualities he has including the dimples by his eyes when he smiles and the specks of gold in his eyes when the light hits just right.

So, to see his tousled blonde hair come into view when she followed Glimmer's gaze to the front door, it was like having someone suck the air out of her lungs.

He was in a dress shirt with a few of the top buttons undone, his black pants matched his black shoes and his eyes were focused on the phone in front of him, despite having another phone pressed against his ear. Clove couldn't move her feet and as he got closer to the counter, the heavier they felt.

His voice was low when he spoke, placing the phone by his ear against his shirt as he glanced at Glimmer, "Can I get a plain Americano, cold, to go? Large, please."

Glimmer nodded, even though he was paying no mind to her, "Just that?"

"Yup. How much do I owe you?"

"Four twenty-five."

Cato locked his phone and shoved it into the pocket of his pants and Clove finally found the nerve to move her feet; ducking behind the espresso machine as she ground the beans into the porta-filter.

Glimmer gave him a smile when he looked up at her and he returned the smile, handing over his card. She swiped it quickly then handed it back to him, but he had already gone back to typing on the phone that had been on his ear. Glimmer cleared her throat and he glanced up for a moment to grab it, "Thanks."

"Sure. The drink will be-"

Clove slid the to-go cup over quickly, keeping her head pointed down at the counter. She watched his hand grab the cup, his body turn, and then watched him walk away. Her eyebrows pulled together, "Jesus. He was pleasant."

"Holy _ shit _," Glimmer leaned against the counter and put a hand on her forehead. "I cannot believe he came here. Katniss is a wonder woman."

"He was a dick." Clove crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

Glimmer looked at her, still smiling, "You should have said hi! He totally would have recognized you and then maybe he'd keep coming back."

"I'm glad I didn't, he was an asshole, Glimmer. He didn’t even say thank you."

"He's probably just having a rough morning." Glimmer shrugged. "Don't take it to heart."

"_ Right _." Clove sounded sassier than she intended, "I'll remember that the next time some businessman walks in here and treats me-"

"Fuck he's coming back." Glimmer stood up straighter immediately and fixed her hair, "Did you mess up the order?"

"How do you _ mess up _ an Americano?" Clove shook her head.

"Shh!" Glimmer shook her hand at her. Both girls watched as he approached the counter - not paying any attention to the both of them - and dropped a five-dollar bill in the tip jar.

"Thank you." Glimmer said, glancing at Clove.

Cato gave her a thumbs up without even a glance then walked off again.

"See," Glimmer said, looking at Clove, "just a bad morning."

Clove rolled her eyes, "I'm going to the bathroom."

"You know I'm right!" Glimmer called out as she walked away.

Clove waved her off and began walking away.

If she was excited for the job earlier, she certainly wasn't now and of course she had no one to blame but herself.

So, when she got home later that afternoon, she blocked him on Instagram, gave herself a pep talk in the shower, and promised herself that there were a lot more important things to worry about than some stupid boy that didn't call her years ago.

Although, she really did miss the smell of Christmas and paint.


End file.
